More Equal Than Others. The DS Lasser series. Volume five: Robin Roughley

by Robin Roughley

Shaking her head she tried to dislodge the image, she needed to think but her mind wouldn't let go, too many years of training had left her snarled in a vicious loop of self loathing and need.

  She thought of Clifford Bretherton and started to cry as she realised that this was her true self, not the image of the Social Worker in her sensible shoes and drab clothes who dealt with troubled lives in a professional manner. But the woman who yearned for punishment, craved discipline.

  She sniffed and turned the key, the engine droned to life. Lifting her fingers from between her legs, she sniffed and then slid the moist finger into her mouth. Somewhere deep inside she felt her soul shrink in disgust.

  When the side window erupted in a shower of glass, Carly Hughes screamed.

  CHAPTER 133

  Lasser was behind the wheel, Bannister slumped in the passenger seat, the phone glued to his ear.

  'Right Cooper, keep your eye on him and if he moves then for fucks sake don't lose him.'

  They were on their way back to the station; the traffic was nonexistent, the surface of the road slick with ice.

  Lasser felt the car slide as he eased around the roundabout.

  'So you don't want us to bring him in, sir?' Cooper asked.

  'Not yet, Brewster is involved, and if we bring him in he'll simply spout no comment and that'll be the end of it.'

  'Understood.'

  Bannister grunted and ended the call. 'Who'd have fucking believed it, I mean it's like some sick joke, have you heard the one about the 'Social Worker and the paedophile.' I mean it beggars belief.'

  'Well we don't know for definite yet.'

  'Well I don't know about Medea but Suzanne's got a memory like an elephant.'

  Lasser touched the gas and the rear of the car began to fishtail. 'I bet you wouldn't say that to her face,' he said as he spun the wheel.

  Bannister flicked him a sidelong glance. 'Look do you want me to drive, at this rate it'll be daylight before we reach the station.'

  'No thanks.'

  Bannister sighed and folded his arms. 'I mean how could something like that happen, she's meant to be watching these people not dressing up as a school girl and jumping into the sack with them?'

  'Like you said earlier it takes all sorts.'

  Bannister sighed. 'Well at least it explains why the house was smashed up.'

  'You think she lost it when she found out about her...' Lasser stopped as he searched for the right word, boyfriend, lover? What did you call a man who was old enough to be Carly Hughes' father, a convicted sex offender and according to Simon Cropper, the worst of a bad bunch.

  'It makes sense, like you said she'd been watching the news on her computer so she must have known.'

  'So where is she now?'

  'That's what we have to find out, sergeant. I mean she's the only link we have.'

  'You think she knows the killer?' Lasser eased to a stop as the traffic lights flicked to red.

  'There's only one way to find out.'

  'First thing I'll go back to the council offices, someone might know if she has a boyfriend or partner...'

  'Bloody morning’s hours away and that place doesn't open till nine.' Bannister pushed a hand through his hair in annoyance.

  'Well what about Fleming?'

  'Who?'

  'Kerrie Fleming, I mean, she doesn't work there anymore but I get the feeling they were quite close at one time.'

  Bannister rubbed his hands together. 'Does she live locally?'

  'Ten minutes away.'

  'So at this pace you should be there within the hour,' Bannister said, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

  'Look should I go or not?'

  The DCI sniffed. 'Drop me at the station, I want to chase up the file on Mack and then you can go and pay this Fleming woman an early morning call, you never know she might answer the door in a baby doll nightie.'

  'I'm spoken for.'

  Bannister barked a laugh. 'Get you!'

  'If you don't drop it I'll tell Suzanne you called her an elephant.'

  Bannister grinned. 'Touché.'

  CHAPTER 134

  The man carried her as if she weighed nothing at all, Carly tried to reach back to claw at his eyes but he simply moved his head to one side and trapped her arm by her side. Her stilettos skimmed over the crushed sandstone car park, his right hand clamped over her mouth.

  Carly snapped her eyes to the heavens but there was no sanctuary there, the stars swirled in a twisted kaleidoscope of light. Then she heard the familiar beep of a car alarm, and he eased her to her feet.

  'If you run or scream I'll catch you and cut off a body part,' he said in a quiet voice, no shouting, no hysterics just an average guy making small talk.

  Carly stood by the side of the black Range Rover her eyes fixed on the ground.

  Clicking open the passenger door, he plucked at her sleeve. 'Get in.'

  Without hesitation she did as he asked, even clipping the seat belt into place, an automatic reflex action. When he slid behind the wheel, she held her breath and swallowed down the familiar sense of fear, her emotions thrummed with adrenalin, her brain raced with uncertainty.

  The engine purred to life and she saw his huge hand grip the gear lever and push it into drive. Then they were pulling off the car park and driving down the narrow country lane. Carly could see the frost in the headlights, the grass at the side of the road brittle and white. Twin orbs suddenly flared in the darkness and she watched as the fox disappeared into the hedgerow.

  After a couple of minutes, the car slowed and the driver pulled into the lay-by.

  Leaving the engine running, he turned in his seat. 'Look at me.'

  Carly snapped her head up and turned, the man behind the wheel had dark grey eyes and black hair that kicked in waves and brushed the collar of his jacket. His hands remained on the wheel at ten to two.

  'You know Neil Redgrove?'

  'What?'

  Suddenly a finger appeared under her nose. 'I just saw the both of you rutting against the wall.'

  Carly glanced away in shock. 'I...'

  'How do you know him?'

  'I don't know what you mean,' she mumbled.

  When he grabbed her left breast, Carly gasped, the muscles in her stomach gripped tight. 'Believe it or not I know a lot about women, how they think, what they like.'

  She groaned as his hand tightened. 'Now, despite the slap around the face you seemed to be having a good time with the old cunt.'

  'Please you're hurting me.'

  The fingers closed around her erect nipple and pulled, Carly clamped her lips together.

  'Somehow I doubt that.' Then he leaned across the seats and looked at her closely. 'I've seen you before,' he said, before easing away and folding his hands in his lap. 'You were coming away from Bretherton's place.'

  Carly snapped upright. 'What do you know about Clifford?'

  The man suddenly smiled at her. 'I know he squealed like a pig when I cut his left foot off at the ankle.'

  The words dripped into her brain like nuggets of burning metal and suddenly all the years of pretence fractured and dropped away. She'd spent her adult life locked in a world of fabrication, one in which pain and humiliation played a major part. She thought of the men, the dominant ones who would parade around like some tin pot God, strutting as they forced her to her knees.

  People like Bretherton and Redgrove who's bloated egos leant them a twisted kind of power.

  Redgrove would put on the leather mask, as if this simple exercise could somehow disguise his abundance of weaknesses. Carly looked at the man behind the wheel, she could feel the power, real power coming off him in dark pulsating waves.

  'Please I'll do anything,' she said in her small butter wouldn't melt voice.

  The man smiled and Carly Hughes felt her bladder twitch, despite the real sense of fear she felt her sex tingle and despised herself for it.

  'I'll ask again, Neil Redgrove how do you know him?'

  'I work for him.'
/>
  'Doing what?'

  Carly squirmed in her seat. 'I'm a Social worker.'

  'So what were you doing at Bretherton's place?'

  Carly opened her mouth and then closed it again. Suddenly she felt a sliver of shame; she didn't want to tell this man that she had been Clifford Bretherton's whore.

  'I'm waiting.'

  'I was his Social worker.'

  'What about the others?'

  She looked at him in confusion. 'Others?'

  'Philips, Wilson, Barlow did you know them as well, were they on your list?'

  Despite the warm air flowing from the heater the temperature in the car seemed to plummet.

  'I knew Wilson but not the others.'

  'I left his head in the toilet bowl and his hands and feet in the bath.'

  He said it with slow deliberation watching as the colour bled from her face.

  'You killed him?' she croaked.

  'Carly, I killed them all,' he smiled. 'And I haven't finished yet.'

  Grabbing the handle she yanked but the door refused to budge, the inside of the car seemed to shrink around her, her head filled with the sound of crumpling metal as if they were trapped inside some relentless crusher.

  When she felt the hand on her shoulder she screamed, a wailing sound that ripped from her shrinking lungs.

  'Listen to me.'

  She continued to scream and then the hand on her shoulder tightened, the fingers digging deep. Carly was used to pain, the nipple clamps, the hot dripping wax, but this was real not some titillating illusion.

  'Shush,' he said in a quiet voice and dug deeper.

  Carly hitched in a pain-filled breath and slammed her lips together and miraculously the agony began to subside.

  'I'm not here to hurt you.'

  She snapped her head around in uncertainty; the man smiled and raised his hand before placing it back on the steering wheel.

  'But...'

  'I want answers that's all.'

  'Answers to what?'

  Shaking out a cigarette, he offered the pack, shrugging when Carly shook her head, a couple of seconds later; she could see smoke swirling in the air. Sliding the window down, he sighed.

  'I want you to take your time and tell me about Neil Redgrove.'

  Carly wiped a hand under her nose and chewed at her bottom lip. 'He doesn't like me talking to strangers,' she said. 'If he finds out he'll hurt me.'

  The man looked at her through the cloud of smoke; his grey eyes seemed to shine metallic. 'You don't have to worry about Redgrove.'

  'But you don't know what he's like, he can be vindictive and...'

  He held up a hand to stop her, the red end of the cigarette glowed in the semi darkness. 'Shut up and talk,' he said.

  Carly took a deep breath and started at the beginning.

  CHAPTER 135

  Lasser tapped at the brakes as the car slithered to a stop. The new build houses were in darkness, one or two of the properties had lights shining from small front porches most of them had two cars parked on the short narrow drives.

  Climbing onto the pavement, he shivered as an icy blast of wind slithered inside his clothing. Moving to the boot, Lasser grabbed his winter jacket and shrugged it on before fastening the zip to the top.

  He made his way along the path, slipping and sliding to the front door, blowing on his fingers he pressed the bell and waited.

  When he heard the tinkling of milk bottles, he turned, a milk float pulled gingerly around the corner, the electric motor droned as it pulled tight to the curb. Lasser watched as a woman jumped down and grabbed a couple of pints before hurrying up the path of the house opposite. As she retraced her steps she looked across the road and raised a hand, Lasser did likewise and turned back to the door just as the hallway light popped to life.

  A few seconds later, a muffled voice drifted from the other side of the door. 'Who is it?'

  'Miss Fleming, it's sergeant Lasser, I'm sorry to call so late but I was wondering if I could have a word.'

  'Lasser?'

  With a sigh, he moved closer to the door. 'I called a couple of days ago, you told me about Simon Cropper.'

  The milk float rattled past and then he heard the sound of a bolt drawn back. Kerrie Fleming wasn't wearing a baby doll nightie, instead she was sporting a bright pink pair of silk pyjamas.

  'Do you know what time it is?' she asked bleary eyed.

  'Yes I know and believe me I wouldn't be here if this wasn't important.'

  Kerrie looked over his shoulder and shivered. 'You'd better come in.'

  Lasser stepped gratefully into the warm hallway and rubbed his hands together. 'It's freezing out there.'

  She gave a tired smile and walked down the narrow hall and into the lounge, clicking on the lights as she entered the room.

  'So what's this all about?' she asked as she slid down onto the sofa.

  Lasser eased into the chair opposite. 'Carly Hughes.'

  Kerrie sprang forward. 'My God she's alright isn't she?'

  'As far as we know she's fine.'

  Kerrie slid her feet onto the sofa. 'As far as you know?'

  'Listen Kerrie, can you tell me if Carly's married?'

  'Divorced.'

  'What about a boyfriend?'

  She hid a yawn behind a raised hand. 'Not that I know of.'

  Lasser sighed, if he was hoping the gossip gates were going to swing open then it looked as if he was going to be disappointed.

  'So how long has she been divorced?'

  'I haven't a clue. I mean, I worked there for almost five years and she and her husband had already separated.'

  'And she's been single since then?'

  Kerrie shrugged. 'I suppose so.'

  'What about the ‘works-beano’ did she ever turn up with anyone?'

  'To tell you the truth, Carly rarely came, she said she didn't like to mix work and socialising. To be honest I can't say I blame her, I mean you know what it's like, people get pissed and then they start slagging one another off.'

  Lasser eased forward in the chair. 'In my experience it's usually the ones who don't show that get the most abuse?'

  Kerrie blushed before sliding a throw around her shoulders as if she suddenly felt cold. 'Look, I always got on with Carly; some of the others thought she was a bit cold, a bit distant.'

  'So she wasn't one for hanging around the water cooler and chatting shit?'

  Kerrie smiled. 'It's like that at your place as well then?'

  'The police force runs on gossip,' he admitted.

  'She just got on with the job and then went home.'

  'Tell me Kerrie, did she ever have any problems with the offenders?'

  'Problems?' she asked with a frown.

  'Well I've had a few words with Simon and like you said he struggled with the changes...'

  'No Carly wasn't like that.'

  'So she could switch off?'

  'Definitely.'

  Lasser slid the zip down on his jacket. 'What about Clifford Bretherton, did she ever mention him?

  Kerrie's face curdled. 'No.'

  'It's just that Simon indicated he was one of the really bad ones.'

  'Well put it this way, I never went to see him alone.'

  'You felt unsafe?'

  Kerrie nodded. 'Most of them are weak and pathetic, they abuse because they're like children themselves. I know that sounds awful and it's no excuse, but Bretherton was different.'

  'In what way?'

  'The first time I went I made the mistake of going alone, he might have been in his late fifties but he was still a big guy.'

  'Did he threaten you?' Lasser loosened his tie as the heat began to build.

  'No, he wouldn't be so stupid, but you could tell he was used to bullying people, he got in my face, and he had this look in his eyes that told you everything you needed to know.'

  'So what happened?'

  'In the end I almost ran from the house which is the worst thing you can do because it gives them the pow
er, they know you're scared and then they can use that fact to intimidate you.'

  'So the next time you went mob handed?'

  'We didn't have the resources to go mob handed, but I made sure I wasn't on my own.'

  'And what about Carly, would she have taken someone with her?'

  Kerrie thought for a moment. 'I doubt it, Carly liked to work alone.'

  Lasser thought of the photograph of Hughes and Bretherton, playtime with the paedophile, it was no wonder she went on her own.

  'So she wouldn't have been intimidated by someone like Bretherton?'

  Kerrie frowned. 'I don't really know. I mean I don't see how she couldn't have been, after all I spoke to a couple of colleagues and he made them feel the same way.'

  'Females?'

  'Mm.'

  'But Carly never voiced any concerns?'

  Her frown deepened. 'Never.'

  'Don't you think that's strange?'

  Kerrie looked at him cautiously. 'I suppose so.'

  Lasser dipped his hand into his pocket and flicked the edge of the photograph, trying to work out if there would be any benefit in showing it to Kerrie. In the end, he pulled his hand out minus the image.

  'Right, well Kerrie, I'm sorry for disturbing you at this hour.'

  'That's ok, to tell you the truth I thought you were my boyfriend.'

  'At this time?'

  Kerrie smiled. 'He's always forgetting his keys.'

  'I take it the poor sod works shifts?'

  'Well actually he's a police officer like you.'

  Lasser smiled. 'Ah, that explains it the late hours the rubbish memory.'

  'He should have been back hours ago.'

  Lasser slid the zip back up. 'Never believe a copper, Kerrie, when they say they'll be home by ten they never are. By the way what's his name, I might be able to reprimand him for letting you down?'

  'Oh, he doesn't work here, he's over in Manchester.'

  'Ah, one of the big boys.'

  She smiled. 'His name’s John Mack.'

  Lasser sprang from the chair like a dervish.

  CHAPTER 136

  It was the strangest sensation but once Carly started to talk, she found that she couldn't stop.

  Things hidden and locked deep within came flooding out; it was both cathartic and terrifying in equal measure. The man behind the wheel didn't speak, didn't interrupt, there were no heavy sighs, no gasps as she told him about her relationships with, firstly Bretherton and then with Redgrove.